Annie's Games
by jeanvaljeanralphio
Summary: It's the morning of the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games, and Annie Cresta can't help but worry that her name is going to be picked.
1. The Reaping

Annie opens her eyes, then immediately snaps them shut again. She left her window open last night, so her room this morning is a tidal wave of white light that still manages to burn, even through her eyelids. The only downside she can ever find to living on the coast is the sheer brightness of the sun. Though, she supposes, it could be this bright everywhere. She'll probably never find out, something she's more than okay with. The only way she'll ever leave District 4 is if she goes to the Capitol, and that's a fate she's spent her entire life avoiding.

Reluctantly, she lets her eyes slide open, then, with a deep yawn, swings her feet off the bed and stands up. She walks over to her window and leans out of it, inhaling the smells of salt water and sand and fried fish that are wafting up to her from the street. The ocean is glittering, just a few blocks away from her, and the sounds of celebration echo from the whole city. She inhales another noseful of that intoxicating smell before looking down to see the commotion.

Kids are running through the streets, every which way, while adults walk slowly, chatting with each other, every now and then glancing around to see if they lost their child. Everyone seems to be dressed up. They're all heading in one direction: towards the center of town. Annie smacks herself on the forehead and pulls back into her room when she realizes what day it is.

The reaping.

Even now, a little knot of anxiety bundles in her stomach, forcing her to take a deep breath. She's managed to avoid being reaped for five years now. There are only six slips of paper in the bowl that have her name on them, meaning there's only a six-in-some-high-number chance that she'll be picked. Overall, the odds of her name coming out of that bowl are slim.

Fighting has never been Annie's strong suit. Whenever they have mandatory training days in school, she always struggles through them. Because of that, she's always singled out. Poor, pathetic little Annie Cresta, who bruises like a peach and cries if someone gets hurt. Everyone else in her group always excels, but her arms were too weak to throw a trident properly. Or that's what she tells people. She isn't stupid; she knows how fortunate she is to grow up in District 4. There's always food on her table, even if she has to catch it. She's never gone to bed hungry, which is more than people in some other Districts could say. She's heard rumors that most of the people in 12 don't have anything. Whether or not it's true, it makes Annie grateful, but also sad. Being from a richer district means a distinct advantage going into the arena. Annie isn't necessarily weak. She just doesn't want anyone to die.

A chorus of children's laughter flies in through her window, pulling her out of her train of thought. All of a sudden, she has to go for a swim. Her nightgown is off in a flash, crumpled in a heap on her otherwise clean floor. Her favorite blue swimsuit is hanging on a hook by her dresser. It's her most worn item of clothing. In fact, she usually wears it under any other outfit. She pulls an old white dress over her head, letting her long brown hair fan down her back, and runs down the hall. There's barely time for a brief "good morning" to her parents, and she's out the apartment door and down the stairs to the street, taking the steps two at a time, with unbrushed hair and no shoes.

The streets are about ten times as packed as they looked from above. The reaping isn't for several hours, but everyone is heading to the square early. This is typical of District 4. People get excited about the Games. As she squeezes past a group of adults, she catches part of their conversation.

"I just hope my Camber gets picked this year," one mother says to her friends. "He's been training for so long—"

Annie covers her ears and starts to run through the people, and down side streets, until she reaches the beach. It's usually packed, but today it's almost empty. There are only a few people scattered on towels around the sand. Promptly ignoring all of them, Annie sprints to the water, the white sand gripping between her toes, and pulls her dress off, letting it crumple on the sand like her nightgown on her floor.

She's already waist-deep in the warm, blue water when she decides to dive. Eyes shut tight, she plunges into the ocean, water streaming through her hair and pulling all of her anxiety away. Just for a moment, she's her normal self, and it's any other day in the year. She exhales through her nose and reaches her hands ahead to help propel herself forward and then up to refill her lungs.

When she breaks the surface, she whips her hair back in a wide arc and lets her hands follow to smooth it back. Her eyes open slowly, out of habit, to try to keep out saltwater that barely bothers her anymore. She flips, effortlessly, on her back, allowing the waves to carry her out. The sun is warm on the front of her body, and she breathes deeply, closing her eyes as she exhales.

If she wasn't facing the possibility of her death, this could have been the beginning of a perfect day.

She floats on her back for a few minutes, stomach tight and arms just barely waving to keep her above water, when something yanks at her foot. Screaming, she kicks wildly and lifts her torso so she's vertical again. When she rights herself, preparing to fight off a shark or some other monstrosity, she's instead faced with her only friend, who's laughing like a madman.

"That wasn't funny, Finnick," she scolds.

"You should've seen it from my perspective, Cresta," he says, half laughing. "Your arms did that flailing thing. You look like a seal when you're scared."

She glares at him.

"I thought a gross fish thing was attacking me," she tells him. "I guess I wasn't too far off."

He laughs again.

"What are you doing out here?" he asks. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for the reaping?"

"I could ask you the same question, big-shot victor," she replies. He shrugs, or makes a valiant attempt to. It must be difficult with his arms underwater.

"I just wanted to swim around for a while before I was stowed off to the Capitol for a few weeks. You don't know how horrible it is to live without being able to wake up every morning and see… well, that," he says, gesturing out toward the horizon. She stares silently at the glittering ocean that seems to stretch out forever before meeting the bright blue, cloudless sky.

"I'm nervous," she finally blurts, turning back to him. He smiles, curiously, at her.

"What?" he asks.

"I'm nervous about the reaping," she admits. "That's why I'm out here. Swimming always calms me down."

He laughs again.

"You're a piece of work, Cresta," he tells her.

"Is that good or bad?"

He tries to shrug again before changing the subject.

"We should probably head back to shore. I've got to start getting ready. I have to look absolutely perfect for the reaping," he says, miming a hair flip.

"Yeah, you should go. It'll take you ages to look good," she jokes. As he shoves her shoulder, Annie thinks that maybe the only reason they're friends is because she has never fawned over him like the rest of the country seems to.

"Go home and at least try to look presentable for the reaping, Cresta," he says, smiling and shoving her shoulder again. He turns around then and begins to swim back to shore.

"You can just call me Annie, Finnick, remember?" she calls after him.

"No, I can't," he yells back.

She dives into the water, propelling herself forward quickly. A few seconds later, she emerges right next to him. It's an accident, but it makes her look more impressive.

"Wanna race?" she asks. The words are barely out of her mouth before she's back underwater, knowing he'll take her up. Finnick never misses an opportunity to show off. Every few seconds she comes up for air. He's nowhere to be seen. She quickly reaches the shore, mere seconds before he does. Her dress is only a few feet away, and she grabs it while he shakes the water from his hair.

The few people who were on the beach have left by now. Annie's more than a little relieved by this, and she knows Finnick is, too. It's never fun to be gawked at by a crowd.

"Beat you," she gloats, pulling the dress over her head. It clings to her wet skin, but she doesn't care.

Finnick rolls his eyes and starts walking in the other direction, toward his house in the Victor's Village. Annie knows he's silently disappointed.

"See you in a couple hours," she yells across the sand. He holds up one hand, acknowledging her statement. She smiles and starts walking up the beach, back towards home.

When she walks in the door, she notices her parents aren't home. They left a note on her door, telling her they went to the fish market. Her dad always makes her favorite meal before the reaping. It usually calms her down before the stress of waiting in a cheering crowd to hear if she's about to die or not.

Annie is the only person she knows who has zero desire to participate in the Hunger Games. Everyone else her age considers it an honor. She considers it a horrific death sentence. Because of this attitude, everyone at school ignores her. Or, worse, they don't, and Annie comes home with bruises, fighting back tears. Finnick is an oddity for speaking to her. But, then, he can do anything he wants at this point.

She tries not to think about the coming afternoon as she fills the small tub in her bathroom, strips all of her clothes off, and climbs into the lukewarm water, which isn't nearly as comforting as the ocean was. While she scrubs sand and salt from her skin and hair, she thinks, instead, about Finnick Odair.

They officially met a year before, at combat training, when he was her sparring coach. He stood back, giving her pointers while she threw half-hearted punches at him. Everyone around them would shoot jealous looks at her from time to time. They couldn't believe weak little Annie had been paired with a victor. Not just a victor, too, but Finnick Odair.

Towards the end of their session, a patient but exasperated Finnick told her to punch him as hard as she could, which she only did out of nerves and pressure. Instead of hitting him in the stomach, which he was prepared for, she flinched and hit him in the jaw. When he recoiled in pain, tears bloomed in her eyes, and she raced forward, apologizing, to make sure he was okay. Even though he assured her he was, Annie still felt guilty. Even to this day, people make fun of her for it. The only violent thing she's ever done, and it was an accident. Not only that, but she had cried in front of Finnick Odair. Overall, it was not Annie's best moment. He seemed to think it was charming, though, or at least funny, because he started a conversation with her when they ran into each other at the fish market a few days later.

With her hair clean and her skin smooth, she climbs out of the bath and lets the water drain away. She wraps herself in a towel and walks back into her bedroom, where she quickly dries off and dresses in her best outfit. The dress is slinky, strapless, and purple, decorated with a long draped sash around her waist. It's the only nice thing she really owns, thanks to her grandmother. She only has two pairs of shoes, both of which are sandals. She picks the ones that aren't falling apart and pulls them on her feet. Usually, she hates shoes, but, today, they're necessary.

She hears the door open from down the hall, and the chatter and rustle of bags tells Annie that her parents are home. She smiles and walks out into the combination kitchen and living room. Her dad is already busy cooking, a time when it's unwise to disturb him, but her mom sweeps her into a huge hug.

"They didn't have the crab, Annie, I'm sorry," she says, tucking her hair behind one ear. "But we got some scallops and shrimp, and that'll still be good with our grain portion."

Annie smiles.

"That's fine, mom," she says, kissing her on the cheek. "It sounds perfect."

"Do you want me to do your hair?"

Annie nods. Her mom starts back into the master bedroom, and Annie follows behind her. Another ritual that helps to calm her down before the reaping.

Her mom sits at the edge of the bed, and pats the bit of mattress next to her. Annie sits down and turns her back to her mom, who begins to brush out her damp hair.

"What did you do today?" her mom asks as she struggles with a knot. Annie almost never brushes her hair.

"Went for a swim," she says, shrugging.

"Alone?"

"Yes," she lies. Annie winces from a combination of the lie she told and the tangle her mom yanks through.

"Well, did you see anyone while you were there? A friend from school?"

"Mom, you know I don't have any friends at school."

"Annie, don't be ridiculous. I'm sure a lot of people like you."

When all the tangles are gone, she feels her mom separate her hair into two sections and twist them upward, one at a time, and clip the twists in place. The front is still loose, the way Annie likes it. Her mom secures a large barrette shaped like a starfish by her ear, then kisses the top of her head.

"You look lovely," she tells her daughter, smoothing a hand down her cheek. Annie smiles.

"Thank you," she replies.

They both stand and walk back into the living room, where her dad is tipping a package of scallops into the frying pan. He stirs them once, adds the shrimp, and then turns to his family. He opens his arms and Annie falls into them.

"You look gorgeous, kid," he tells her.

"Thanks," she mutters, smiling.

"And I don't want you to be nervous, Annie," he says, pulling away to look into her face. "It's not your year. I can feel it. You're going to be fine."

She only nods in response, and he turns back to the frying pan. For an awkward moment, she stands there smoothing her dress. Unsure of what else to do, she sits at the small table where the three of them eat their meals. Her mom is already sitting there, but they don't speak. Neither of them usually have much to say before the reaping. Annie is always too nervous. Her mom is too busy wishing she was excited, though she would never admit that.

After a few minutes that feel like hours, her dad serves lunch, which they all eat in silence. It isn't much, just some fish and mushy grain, but it's more than other Districts have. She recites that like a mantra at every meal. It's not much, but it's better than most. She chews slowly, briefly thinking she could slow down time if she takes a long time to eat. But the minutes still tick by, and she's only just finished eating when it's time to leave. Annie stands and puts her dish on the counter to wash when she gets home, then turns and nods to her parents.

She leaves the apartment first, with her head up and her shoulders square. They're only on the second floor, so there's only one staircase between them and the street, but each step feels like a mile. Everything's always really exaggerated right before the reaping, like she's taking her last steps, or her last breaths, or blinking for the last time and she's trying to enjoy these mundane things that she never appreciated.

The square is only five blocks down from their building, and it's packed by the time they get there. Her mom kisses her on the cheek before fighting her way to the front of the spectators' section. Her dad reaches up and rubs his palm down her cheek with a small smile before joining her mom. Taking a deep breath, she turns and wiggles her way through the crowd until she's standing towards the front with the other 17-year-olds. She looks at the 18s ahead of her. Next year, she'll be there. The year after, she'll be back in the crowd with her parents.

Annie looks at the stage, where a microphone stands front and center. All around it are the two bowls containing the boys' and girls' names, as well as four occupied chairs and a handful of peacekeepers. The four people sitting down are the Mayor, Finnick, an old woman named Mags who Annie knows is the only living female victor from 4, and the District 4 escort, Mena Kari, who is talking to Finnick.

Mena's dressed in aquamarine from her hair all the way down to her spiky high heels. It looks immaculate against her brown skin. Even her lips are painted that strange bright bluish green. Mena always dresses with an ocean theme on reaping day, and she's always beautiful, even if a little over the top.

A bell chimes over the speakers scattered around the square. The crowd woops and hollers, and Mena breaks off her conversation with Finnick. The mayor stands to lumber over to the microphone. He gives a short speech about how the districts rebelled and lost, and now the Capitol puts on the Hunger Games so the rebels can repent. Annie never listens to what he says. The same thing is drilled into her head every week at school. Finally he steps back, the crowd goes wild again, and Mena steps up to raise the microphone.

"Hello," she breathes happily, glancing around the crowd. Everyone falls silent at once. "Welcome to the District Four Reaping for the 70th annual Hunger Games!"

The crowd roars; everyone except for Annie cheers and claps. Mena holds up her hands and silence falls again. She smiles widely at their reaction.

"You all know the drill by now, don't you?" she asks, laughing. Everyone laughs with her. "I'll draw one name from each bowl, one male and one female. If you hear your name, come up on stage, and then we'll get you ready to compete in this year's Hunger Games! And, as always, may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The crowd cheers again as she reaches for the bowl to her left. She rifles around with all the slips of paper for a moment before withdrawing one. She opens it and turns back to the crowd.

"This year's male tribute is…." She glances at the paper. "Sebastian Dehlia!"

There is a sea of cheering that erupts as Sebastian dislodges himself from the group of 15s and moves up the middle pathway to the stage. He's tall and muscular. His blond hair is short, his skin is tan. Overall, very attractive. He'll probably do well in the arena. The entire way up, he pumps his fists in the air. He shakes hands with Mena, then Mags, then the Mayor, and finally Finnick before standing just behind Mena and to her left.

"Do we have any volunteer tributes?" Mena asks the crowd.

"I hope not!" Sebastian calls out, laughing. The whole crowd laughs, too. Even Finnick smiles. Volunteers are rare in District 4, since participating in the Games is such an honor, and no one would want to take that chance from another person.

Mena lifts her hands to make the crowd quiet again, then slides the slip of paper containing Sebastian's name into her pocket. She reaches into the second bowl, to her right, digs around for an eternity, and withdraws the second slip of paper. Annie can feel her heartbeat in her ears. Spots appear in her vision, and she realizes that she stopped breathing. Mena turns back to the crowd.

"This year's female tribute is…." She glances down again at the slip of paper in her hands. "Twenny Clearing!"

Another wave of noise fills the square. Annie cranes her neck, looking around the crowd of older kids. Tributes are usually 15 or older, since they have more slips in the bowls. She notices that all the older kids are looking back, though. She turns and sees a young girl, probably only 12-years-old, with dark hair and tan skin, slowly making her way up the pathway. She's sheepishly waving to the people around her. There have been 12s before. They're usually the most excited because they can't believe how lucky they are to get picked their first year.

"Look, she's so happy she's crying!" says someone to Annie's left. She looks at the girl more closely and sees that, yes, her cheeks are shiny with tears. She's smiling, but her eyes look dead. She's waving, but her hands are shaking.

This girl isn't happy. This girl is terrified.

She reaches the stage, shakes hands with everyone, then stands to Mena's right.

"Any volunteers?" Mena offers again, only because she has to. The crowd starts to laugh again. Because, to them, this girl obviously wants to go. Everyone wants to go. Twenny is crying harder now.

The next thing Annie knows, she's in the pathway, walking to the stage. One of her hands is raised, the other holding up her skirt. She's yelling something she can't exactly comprehend, because she can't hear anything. From head to toe, her entire body is shaking. The sun is still up, but her circulation has stopped. She's frozen, but still she's walking, she's almost to the stage, and the girl, Twenny, is smiling now and so grateful.

Somehow, that rights everything. Warmth and feeling and all of Annie's senses come crashing back to her. She hears the baffled crowd all around her, and she hears what she's been yelling.

"I volunteer as tribute!"


	2. Goodbye

Annie's still shaking as she walks up to the stage. Twenny immediately runs forward and hugs her, tight, around the waist. She absentmindedly places her hands on the girl's shoulders. The crowd turns into a blur of people when she turns her head to try to find her parents. They're gone, swallowed up by the sea of District 4 citizens. Twenny then lets her go and runs off the stage and back into the group of 12s she had emerged from. It occurs to her just now that she's on camera. The entire country just saw that, or they're going to later. Will they see it as an act of mercy? Or as Annie wanting so badly to compete that she robbed a little girl of the chance? She's not even sure which one she would prefer.

Mena is beckoning to her, like she's trying to pull her forward with her mind. She looks vaguely confused. Annie is positive that she looks lost. She can feel every one of the thousands of eyes that are watching her slow steps across the stage. The people of District 4 seem to be confused, or angry, or ecstatic, but they can't collectively decide. There's a jumbled mush of yells and cheers as she settles behind the microphone. Mena places her hand on the small of Annie's back as she begins talking. For some reason, this makes Annie uncomfortable.

"And what's your name?" Mena asks. Her voice seems even more sickly sweet than normal. Mena's voice has an odd trill to it, so it sounds like she's singing everything. In the past, Annie found it annoying but tolerable. At the moment, though, it's making her irrationally angry.

"Annie Cresta," she says, as proudly as she can. The crowd bombards her with equal amounts of hatred and love. She adopts a smile and waves to them.

"And what prompted you to volunteer for that girl, Annie?"

For a brief moment, she freezes. She's in the Games now. She's a tribute. Every move she makes from here on out could determine if she lives or dies. This is her first opportunity to win over the people of Panem, and apparently win back some of her own District. She widens her smile and actually grabs the pole of the microphone to speak.

"Well, Mena, that girl was so small," she begins. "I thought, why should she needlessly die in the arena when she should grow and try again in a few years? And then I thought, 'Why, Annie! You're stronger and smarter and faster than she is. Why don't you volunteer?' So I did. So I could try my best at ensuring a District Four victory!"

To her relief, the spectators all cheer. The older kids, though, the potential tributes who all know her, aren't so dazzled. Their outrage is quickly overpowered by the love from everyone else. Some of them begin chanting her name. She flashes another smile and waves in their direction. Even Mena bursts out clapping before shaking Annie's hand. Then she moves to the Mayor, who claps a congratulatory hand on her shoulder. Next is Mags, who not only shakes her hand, but pulls her close to kiss her on the cheek. And then Annie is face to face with Finnick, who shakes her hand for a very long moment, a look of pity and fear knit across his face. Finally, she turns to shake hands with Sebastian, but he pulls her into a huge, rib-cracking hug instead. When he places her back on the stage, they both turn to the audience. The roar from them has reached deafening levels. Mena puts her hands up again, but it's not until she speaks into the microphone that the people actually stop.

"Here we are, everyone! This year's tributes from District Four! Sebastian Dehlia and Annie Cresta!" she announces, then stands back so Sebastian and Annie can wave or bow or say goodbye to the people of their District however they want to. Annie decides that waving is suiting her just fine, so she keeps at it. She doesn't pay attention to what Sebastian's doing. Then there's an arm around her shoulders, and a peacekeeper is moving her off the stage and through a door that she knows leads into City Hall.

The peacekeeper practically shoves her down a long hallway and through a door partway along it. She's in a simple room that has three chairs and not much else. This is one of the few moments she won't be on camera for the coming weeks, so she sinks to the ground, hyperventilating. She squeezes her eyes shut. This isn't real life. She's going to wake up in a few minutes, in her slightly lumpy bed, and some proud 16-year-old is going to be reaped, and she'll spend the afternoon swimming. She opens her eyes, and the old cream-and-maroon striped wallpaper of this tiny room in City Hall is right in her face. Nope. Not a dream. Her eyes sting from holding back tears, but she refuses to cry. She can't have puffy eyes at the train station. Anyone who knows her will know she has zero chance of winning, and that wasn't a fact she wanted broadcast to the entire country, let alone the other tributes.

Before she can get a grip on herself, there's a knock at her door. She wipes her eyes and stands up just as it opens. She's hoping to see her parents, but it's Twenny who comes in. The girl runs to her, wrapping her waist in another hug. This time, Annie returns it. They stand like that for awhile. One minute, two, Annie loses track. Finally, Twenny pulls away and stares into Annie's face.

"Why did you volunteer?" she asks.

"You looked terrified," Annie answers. "I-I don't really know. I just couldn't let you go."

"But you're scared, too," Twenny says. It's not a question.

Annie only nods in reply. The girl hugs her again.

"Thank you," she whispers.

A peacekeeper comes into the room and pulls Twenny out.

"I'll be rooting for you, Annie!" she yells just before the door is closed.

Once the door closes, she sinks down into a chair and continues to hyperventilate. She balances her face in her hands and tries to just focus on her breathing. Too quickly, her door opens again, and she looks up expectantly. It's not her parents, though.

It's Mags.

"Hello," Annie manages to say, not even attempting to move from her chair. The old woman smiles in response, and she remembers something about her being unable to speak. Then Mags walks forward and places her hands on Annie's shoulders. The contact relaxes her in a way she can't exactly describe. They stay in that position, silent, for the rest of the visit. The only noises in the room are Annie's heartbeat, her breathing, Mags' thumbs as they rub against Annie's skin. When the peacekeeper comes in, the old woman dots a kiss on the top of her head and leaves.

Now, Annie can't sit still. She's on her feet, walking in wide arcs around the small room, wringing her hands. Then the door opens again, and this time it is her parents. Her mom is smiling and crying and just scoops Annie into her arms. Her dad is smiling, but only with his mouth. She knows what he's actually feeling. He was the one who taught her to respect all humans, and all life, no matter what. He's the reason she never liked fighting. He finds it barbaric, an attitude that rubbed off on her, much to her mother's dismay. Except for today. Today she gets to be the apple of mommy's eye.

"Oh, Annie, sweetheart, we're so proud," her mom practically screams. "All these years, we thought you didn't want to go, but now here we are! Saying goodbye to our little hero!"

She holds her daughter at arm's length. Annie forces herself to smile as her mother's hand smoothes down her hair. Then she's back in her arms, and her mom is blubbering and gushing about "her tribute." She knows her mom means well. Overall, she's glad for the support. At least someone will mourn her death.

Eventually, her mom lets her go, just as the peacekeeper comes back in. Her dad gives her a quick hug.

"Stay safe," he tells her as the peacekeeper begins to drag them both out of the room. Then he calls, "I love you," back to her just before the door closes.

"I love you, too," she says out-loud, but she knows he didn't hear her.

A few seconds later, the peacekeeper comes back and escorts her out the back exit of city hall and into a car, which takes her to the train station. Annie's never been in a car before. She hates how fast it goes and how her feet aren't connected to the ground. She's used to walking everywhere. The city had a sort of hum to it that she loved feeling under her bare feet. Would the Capitol have the same feel to it? Probably not. She sighs and watches the city rush by her. It's leaving too quickly, pulling away from her too fast. She doesn't like it.

Then, much too soon, her car pulls up to the train station, along with four others, identical to hers, she hadn't noticed before. Simultaneously, five peacekeepers step out of them and retrieve their respective passengers. Annie can mostly only focus on the man's tight grip on her arm, and the cameras, even more than there were in the square, right outside the train. Sebastian and Mena are just ahead of her. Everything else is blurring at the edges. Each step brings her closer to the reporters. She takes a deep breath and puts on another smile.

The doorway in front of the train is roped off for the tributes and their team, but all around it is a madhouse. There's a ton of people hoping to get a glimpse of her, or Sebastian, or Finnick. Annie waves in each lens, smiles at every person who calls her name, and then her peacekeeper shoves her on the train. There's a table in the room to her right that she immediately sits at and lays her head on. Mena is standing near the far end. Sebastian is waving out the windows to the reporters who are only talking to Finnick at this point. When Mags walks on the train, she takes the seat right next to Annie and places a hand on her arm. She smiles and returns the gesture.

It takes five minutes for Finnick to get on the train. Every reporter wants to talk to him, or at least touch his arm. When he finally gets inside, he has the worn, ragged look of a warrior after a long battle. The train begins to move as he takes a seat at the table opposite Annie.

If she hated cars, it was nothing to this. Sebastian acts like it doesn't bother him, but Annie sits bolt upright when the train really takes off. It quickly gets up to top speed, and everything out the window blurs by at 250 miles per hour. She tries not to think about it as she turns to Mena, who clears her throat and spreads her arms out wide. Mags fold her hands gently in her lap. Mena positively beams at Annie and Sebastian.

"Welcome," she begins, simply. "We're now on our way to the Capitol." She pauses for a moment to joyfully clap. This is apparently a pattern for her. Sebastian is the only one who joins in. Annie lays her head back on the table. "The journey should only take a few hours. We'll arrive a little after sunset. A lot of the tributes won't be arriving until tomorrow, so you'll have some down time tonight, isn't that nice?"

Sebastian nods, enthusiastically. Annie takes a deep breath.

"Well, I'm sure Finnick will have a lot to cover with you both. But why not a late lunch first?" She smiles even wider. It's eerie with her blue lipstick.

A door opens behind Mena, and several carts are wheeled in. Trays are pulled from them and set on the table. Annie doesn't want to eat, but her stomach is growling. Excitement always made her hungry. Smells waft over her as lids are lifted, causing her entire mouth to fill with saliva. She sits upright and points to a weird brown lumpy dish.

"What's that?" she asks.

"Lamb stew," Finnick answers, somewhat coldly, catching her eye.

She shrugs and loads some onto the plate that's just been placed before her. After the juciest, most savory bite of food she's ever had the pleasure of eating in her entire life, she scoops up a little of everything. Sebastian settles into the seat next to her and talks while she eats and he fills his own plate.

"So District Four victory, right?" he asks, grinning widely.

She nods between bites. All the food is so rich. She's used to fish and grains. Some greens or other vegetables or potatoes from time to time, but those were rare. There are meats before her she's never heard of. Lamb? Beef? Of course, she knows what chicken is, but she's never eaten it before. Everything is cooked to perfection. Flavorful. Tender. Each bite sends forth a stream of juice and sauce down her chin. Chunks of meat get stuck in her teeth, and she picks them out with her nails.

The food is so good that Sebastian has forgotten to talk to her. She's vaguely aware of Mags eating quietly on her other side. Finnick picks at his own food half-heartedly. Mena is staring at Annie and Sebastian in horror, like she's never seen such awful table manners.

Annie scrapes her plate clean and begins to shovel more food onto it. Her eyes meet Finnick's across the table. The way he's staring at her makes her blush and she nearly drops the spoon to some white and brown noodle dish with chunks of meat and mushrooms.

"What?" she asks across the table.

"Had enough to eat?" Finnick jokes.

"No," she says flatly, taking a heaping spoonful of the noodles.

Not only is all the meat delicious, but the sauces are too. One is creamy and spicy, another is rich and savory. Yet another is almost sweet, with a hint of some fruit Annie can't place mixed with cheese. She's never had food like this before. Sebastian hasn't either, apparently, because he's eating with the same gusto.

When Annie finishes her second plate, and Sebastian goes for his third, Finnick steps to the head of the table. He looks grim, like he'd aged about five years since this morning. He locks eyes with Annie and talks while Sebastian eats.

"Alright, tributes," he begins. He seems very official. Annie can't help but sit up straighter in her chair. "This isn't just food and train rides. This first week is all about training, figuring out your strengths and weaknesses, and damage control."

"Damage control?" Sebastian asks after swallowing a mouthful of food. "What do you mean? We were great this morning. The crowd loved us."

"Yeah, the crowd did," Finnick says, switching his gaze from Annie to Sebastian. "But she," he points at Annie, "totally eliminated herself as a serious contender."

"How?" Sebastian challenges. He seems defensive of her, but Annie knows how. Finnick picks up a remote from the table and presses a button on it. Behind him, a screen plays their reaping. He pauses it as the little girl enfolds herself into Annie's arms and the camera gets a nice shot of how terrified she looks.

"That's a beautiful and noble thing you did, Cresta," he says, nodding to her. "But it'll cost us for a little while. You may have fooled the country with your super cheerleader act, but every victor knows that look, and all the mentors are telling their tributes, right now, that you are a weak link." He's suddenly angry when he adds, "Do you even want to be here?"

There's a very long pause as everyone in the room turns to look at Annie. She lays her arms across her lap, holding one shaking hand in the other.

"No," she finally says. It comes out as a whisper.

"Wait, then why did you volunteer?" Mena asks, incredulous. There's every chance that a tribute has never admitted to being unenthusiastic in front of her before.

"That girl. She didn't want to go either. She was so small."

"And now every tribute knows that you have a soft spot," Finnick continues. "You're from District Four, Cresta. In order to have any sort of shot in that arena, you need to start acting like it. Now both of you just relax for now. We'll talk strategies when we settle in the Capitol tonight."

Then he storms down the hall and into his compartment. The compartments aren't necessary. They won't even be spending a night on the train. But, still, only the best for the Capitol's newest play things. Sebastian shoots Annie a weird look, then follows Finnick down the hall and turns into his own compartment.

Mena mutters something Annie doesn't catch before heading in the opposite direction, toward the front of the train. She buries her head in her arms. This whole situation is humiliating. And why is Finnick so angry? She wouldn't have been a contender anyway, no matter how she'd reacted.

Suddenly, there's a hand on her arm, and she jumps before realizing it's only Mags. Somehow, the old woman must have read her mind, because she points at Annie, then flexes her arms, like she's showing off muscles. Annie understands, but shakes her head.

"No, I'm not very strong," she replies, standing to go to her own compartment. She feels bad about leaving Mags alone. But she also doesn't want to see anyone at the moment.

Despite the fact that she's alone in the room, Annie feels like she's being watched. Now that she thinks about it, she's pretty sure she's been on camera since the reaping. It's unsettling. She shakes her head to stop thinking about it and stares around her home for the next few hours.

It's big for temporary quarters. Bigger than her room back home. There's a bed she'll never sleep in, a door that she assumes leads to a bathroom, a stuffed chair near the window on the other side, and a large closet that takes up an entire wall. She starts walking to the chair, to sink in it, or maybe take a much-needed nap, when there's a knock on her door. She lets out a small groan and answers it.

Finnick is standing in the hallway, back straight and hands disappearing behind his back. Annie folds her arms.

"What do you want?" she asks.

"I wanted to remind you to change into something more comfortable and… appropriate for the event," he says. She self-consciously grabs one of her bare shoulders. Anger cuts through her, white hot, now that they're alone and he's still treating her like a dog that needs to be trained. Finnick is supposed to be her friend. Her only friend. Ever. She doesn't think before she replies, which is almost always a mistake.

"Is the blood of twenty-three other people available? I think that would probably be most appropriate."

For a split second, Annie thinks he's about to laugh. Then he whisks into her room and the door slides shut behind him. There's a gleam in his eyes that she's never seen before. More than anger, it's desperation, even fear. He gets very close to her, places a hand on her shoulder, and looks directly into her eyes.

For the first time, Annie doesn't want to be around him. This isn't her Finnick, or rather the Finnick she's friends with. This is Finnick as he has to be in the Capitol. This is Finnick from the arena, Finnick the 14-year-old who walked triumphantly back into civilization over the bodies of 23 children. Finnick the victor, Finnick her mentor. Finnick the killer. She has to force herself to take a deep breath as he begins talking in a low voice.

"Look, Cresta, whether or not you want to be here, you're here. And by choice, I might add," he says, eyes still locked on hers. "Are you scared? Tough. We were all scared going into that arena."

She scoffs.

"You? Scared?"

He nods, visibly relaxing, but just a little.

"I was terrified. I acted fearless. And when you pretend for long enough, it becomes a part of who you are. That act got me sponsors."

"Actually, I think it was your good looks that got you sponsors," she says, smirking.

He crinkles his brows for a moment.

"Regardless, it helped me win. So if you want to live, you have to adopt a similar attitude. You have to be ruthless. Fierce. Mean. And, most importantly, you have to not shoot your mouth off about the blood of twenty-three people in a Capitol train. That's how you walk out of that arena." He releases her shoulder, but still holds her gaze. She forces another deep breath in and out of her lungs.

"Finnick, I don't think I'm walking out of that arena," she whispers.

He chews his top lip for a moment before he walks out without saying another word. A shudder shoots down her spine as the door shuts behind him. She knows it's his job to keep her alive, but she doesn't remember any of the mentors being so adamant from her years of watching the Games at home. But then, those moments were all public. She doesn't know how they acted behind-the-scenes. Still, Finnick seems too invested, too worried. His anger is just masking fear. But fear of what?

She shudders again as she walks across the room to the closet. The choices inside seem to be infinite. There are a lot of fabrics she's never even seen before, in every cut and style. Eventually, she settles on a blood red sleeveless top and black leggings. She keeps her sandals. All of the dresses are gorgeous, but Finnick said to dress comfortably. He's her mentor now, not her friend. He's made that very clear. It would probably be best to do what he says.

An array of jewelry is hanging on the back of the closet door. She slides a gold bangle on her arm and walks over to the window. The train is still moving too fast to really see what's happening outside, but she can tell that it's sunset. They're about two hours from the Capitol, tops. She settles in the chair, turning away from the view. The chair is so warm and soft, and Annie feels her eyes beginning to droop. She tries to fight off sleep, but there's no use, and, the next thing she knows, Mena is shaking her.

She doesn't even remember falling asleep, but she must have, because the window is dark now. The room is brightly lit from a fixture on the ceiling. Mena's blue outfit is so bright it hurts Annie's eyes.

"What is it?" Annie asks.

"We're almost there!" Mena trills. She then runs from the room. Annie stretches out and slowly stands, sore from sleeping in a chair. She follows Mena out into the big room. Everyone else is already there. As are at least ten peacekeepers. It's difficult to count them in such close quarters.

She and Finnick exchange quick nods before she stands by Mags, who greets her by squeezing her hand. Annie smiles at the old woman, glad that at least one of her mentors wants to be her friend. Sebastian seems to be actively ignoring her at this point. He'll warm up though. In a few days, she's going to be the only thing he has to remind him of home.

Suddenly, the train begins to slow down. Mena is audibly excited. No one else makes a noise, but they all brace themselves so they don't fall. When the train comes to a complete stop, two peacekeepers step up to the door. Mena rushes after them, desperate to make a dramatic introduction for her two tributes.

"Welcome to the Capitol," she says, more serious than Annie has ever seen her. The peacekeepers open the door, and a flood of light immediately blinds everyone else in the room.


	3. Mermaid Out Of Water

Everything between the train and the training center is a giant blur of people and buildings that Annie can't seem to differentiate. She stays very close to Mags as their small group navigates through the mob of reporters, peacekeepers, cameras, and even screaming citizens who want to greet the tributes as they arrive. Mena leads the way, smiling brightly, blowing kisses, grabbing the hands of her friends. As Mags follows their escort, she reaches back for Annie's hand. She takes it gratefully. She'd never make it out of this crowd alive. Although, at least that would spare her from the arena.

A small path clears through the mob, allowing the small group from District 4 to pass. It's still tight, though, and people are still shouting all around them. Hands seem to randomly appear just to pet Annie's arms, or her hair, or her face. She smiles in the general direction of each one even though she's inwardly cringing at each point of contact.

Suddenly there's a hand on the small of her back. She turns, knowing it has to be one of the guys. For some reason, she deflates a little when she sees Sebastian. She can't help but look to Finnick, a few paces back, who's waving to no one in particular and ignoring the people touching, not just his arms, but his entire body. She averts her gaze back to Sebastian. He leans into her.

"Sorry, I just don't want to get lost," he says with a laugh. She smiles in return. A Capitol woman steps forward and kisses Finnick full on the mouth, bringing up a fresh batch of shouts and cheers from the people around them. Annie turns around and keeps her eyes on Mags until they're safely inside the training center.

Mena, who's easy to spot in her bright blue outfit, stands out under the bright lights of the gargantuan crystallized lobby. She's patiently holding an elevator open. The rest of them rush into it, hoping to put as much distance between them and the people outside as possible. Mena pushes the number "4," and the large glass box begins moving up. Annie watches as the ground slips farther and farther away. It's unnerving, so she moves to the back wall and leans against it. She tries looking in a different direction, one that won't remind her that she's basically floating in midair, but she can see out of every wall, and everything just reminds her that she's moving, seemingly unsuspended, through the air. Finally, she lets her eyes settle on Finnick, who's leaning next to her with his eyes closed.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

He nods. She's never seen him so upset, though.

"I hate it when they do that," he mutters. It doesn't take a lot to guess what he means. The kiss. The complete violation of his personal space. She touches his arm and he jerks it back, opening his eyes. "Sorry," he says.

The elevator stops, and the doors open with a ding. As they all pile out of it, Finnick shakes his head a few times. Annie's mouth drops open when she looks around the room they've all walked into.

The entire far wall is a perfectly transparent window, overlooking the glittering Capitol. There's a long table made of some sort of red wood with seven matching chairs. In front of that is a lounge with an overstuffed couch and four armchairs, all surrounding a television screen mounted on the wall opposite the giant window. The entire room is bigger than Annie's whole apartment back home. Sebastian lets out a low whistle.

"You said it," Annie says.

There are hallways leading off either side of the room, which must lead to their sleeping quarters. Before she and Sebastian can even begin to wander, though, Finnick is calling them to sit down in the lounge area. There's an eerie finality to the whole suite. Like she's never going to leave it.

She sits on the couch and curls her legs under herself. Sebastian sits, back straight and perfectly balanced, on the opposite side. Finnick, Mags, and Mena all stand before them.

"Alright, tributes," Finnick begins. "Before we go to sleep tonight, I'd like to at least get started on strategies for you both. Especially since you'll be around other tributes starting tomorrow. Is it okay if this is a group discussion, or would either of you rather be coached alone?"

Annie and Sebastian look at each other, both seriously considering that option. Then she shakes her head and he says, "No, sir." It takes a lot of effort for her to not laugh at the idea of Finnick being a "sir."

"This settles things, then," Finnick says. "Sebastian, what are your strengths? Any weapons? Hand-to-hand?"

"I know hand-to-hand, as well as various weapons including axes, knives, and tridents." Finnick nods.

"And you've already shown your enthusiasm. I think you'll be alright, as long as you get a high score during training. You're charismatic, you're energetic. People will definitely like you." He turns to Annie. "You, on the other hand. Smiling and waving will only get you so far. Try talking to reporters. You're also going to need one hell of a high score. I know you can throw a punch," he says, jokingly rubbing his jaw. "Any weapons?"

She shakes her head. "No, not really. I mean, I'm okay with a spear."

Finnick scoffs and folds his arms. Like the idea of a spear is insulting to him.

"Spears have no finesse. I can't let you represent District Four, or me, with a spear. How about a trident?" he asks, and his mouth widens into a smile.

"A trident?" She laughs. "They have less finesse than a spear. Plus, the three prongs thing kind of feels like over-compensation."

The smile slides right off his face.

"I use a trident," he tells her.

"I know," she replies. All the color drains from his face. Mags smiles at Annie while Mena lets out a single loud laugh. Finnick looks sideways at both of them. Mags pats his arm reassuringly.

"At least I don't have to teach you how to be funny," he almost snaps. "Spear it is, then. If I were you, I'd pick up knife throwing or something like that, too. It can get really useful in a tight spot."

A memory jumps to her mind. Finnick, in the arena, cornered, trident on the ground several yards away. There's a gash on his face, one on his arm. The other tribute, a boy, goes in for the killshot, but Finnick already has a knife buried in his ribs. The boy coughs blood on Finnick's face before the cannon sounds. Annie shakes her head to rebury that image.

"Yeah, knife throwing, got it," she mutters.

"Around other tributes…." he begins, then pauses to look at her. She instantly sits up straighter, unfolds her legs, like he would somehow forget everything he knows about her if she just looked more presentable. "Act like your allies."

"And who are my allies?" she asks. He runs a hand through his hair with frustration at himself and shifts to address Sebastian as well.

"Right. I want you both to team up with One and Two," he says. "They'll also be well-prepared for the arena. They'll be incredibly useful." He makes a face, then adds, "For awhile."

He speaks very carefully, avoiding certain phrases, like "prior training." Although everyone knows that 1, 2, and 4 are trained their whole lives before going into the arena, it's technically against the rules, and so not very good to discuss, especially within the Capitol.

"One and Two," Sebastian repeats. "Got it."

"That still doesn't tell me how to act," Annie says, at this point more than a little determined to inconvenience him, even slightly.

Finnick takes a small step in her direction.

"Like this is your birthright, Cresta," he tells her. "Your entire life has lead up to being in that arena. You're confident, to the point of being cocky. You're a ruthless killing machine. But you're no leader. You need to present yourself as a liability, not an obstacle for them to get rid of. You are strong, you are eager, you're a little naïve. You got all that?"

Basically, be like most of the tributes from 1, 2, and 4 in the past few years. She nods.

"Good," Finnick says. He picks up a remote from the table and points it to the screen. In a matter of moments, he pulls up the recap of the reapings. "Pay attention," he tells them. Predictably, 1 and 2 are huge, strong, and very attractive. The girl from 3 looks like she could be some trouble. Other than them, the only ones of note are the boy from 5 and the girl from 10. Those are the ones Finnick points out to them at least. Then it's over. Finnick turns off the screen and turns back to them.

"Now both of you go to sleep," he orders. "You have a long day tomorrow. Especially you, Cresta."

He's down the hall to his room before she can say anything. But he's right. Tomorrow is the opening ceremonies. She's going to spend most of the day in prep, being put into some ridiculous costume. It definitely won't be any fun. Not that any part of this is exactly what Annie would constitute as "fun."

Mena smiles brightly at them before she slips back into the elevator to go to her own private room. Annie briefly wonders why escorts get their own quarters, but then Mags steps forward. She squeezes Sebastian's shoulder, kisses Annie's forehead, then goes down the hall opposite Finnick's, and into her own room.

"He's a piece of work, isn't he?" Sebastian asks, hooking his thumb in the direction Finnick left.

Annie shrugs. "He's just trying to keep us alive."

Why is she defending him? This is the guy who was her friend this morning, but now seems to be bent on humiliating her in front of their whole team. She doesn't owe him a single thing, let alone a defense. Although…

Maybe it's because Annie knows him, but she can see the moments when Finnick has to put his mask on. Maybe he's had his mask on the whole time, though. Maybe she, after a year or so of seeing each other and swimming together almost every day, had never even seen the real Finnick Odair. Then she remembers the elevator, the way he slumped against the wall after facing the aggression of the crowd. That was the first time she's ever seen him in any sort of pain. Could that be the real Finnick? She hopes not. That Finnick was so despondent, so… almost hopeless.

"You know, I get it," Sebastian suddenly says, making her jump. They'd been silent for so long she almost forgot he was in the room.

"Get what?" she asks.

"You don't want to be here."

"No."

"Because you're scared."

She hesitates before she answers. "Yes."

"I'm scared, too," he says.

"You?" she asks, disbelieving.

He nods. "I'm really proud to be here. My parents are proud that I'm here. But I don't want to die."

"I don't think anyone really wants to die, you know?"

They both nod and fall silent at her statement. There are a few minutes of comfortable silence before Sebastian stands to go to sleep. Once his door clicks shut, she goes to her own room. She even manages to get a few hours of fitful sleep before Mena is, again, shaking her awake.

"I don't like this tradition," Annie says, rubbing her eyes. The side of her head is throbbing, and she realizes she forgot to take the starfish barrette out before she went to bed.

"Too bad," Mena sings. "You have a big day ahead of you! After breakfast, you'll be in prep for the opening ceremonies all day. So get up! I'm not leaving until you're out of bed!"

Annie groans and unearths herself from the soft down blankets and stands up to face her escort. Mena is wearing an elaborate gold wig today, along with a silver dress and gold shoes. Her lipstick is bright red. Absolutely everything is glittering.

"You look like fireworks," Annie tells her.

"That's what I was going for!" she trills. "Let's go get breakfast."

Annie doesn't even bother to change clothes, but she does take her hair down. It sticks out awkwardly in places from being in the same style for so long. It doesn't really matter, though. Anything she does this morning will just be redone by her stylist later.

When she and Mena walk into the main room, though, she sees that none of the others share her attitude. Mags and Finnick are already dressed for tonight. Sebastian is wearing a suit, which seems like a bit much for breakfast.

"Good morning, Annie," he says politely. She tries to smile in reply. Mags pats the seat next to her, which Annie happily takes. Finnick gives her a curt nod, which irritates her. But not for long, because just then a flurry of people bring in a multitude of large silver trays.

Annie's stomach grumbles eagerly. She hadn't even realized the depth of her hunger. The food is barely even on the table before she starts serving herself a little of everything. Fluffy yellow stuff that Mena calls eggs. Potatoes seasoned with bright orange spices and covered in white cheese. Toasted green District 4 bread smeared with butter. Little links of spiced meat that she learns are sausages. Annie eats until she's stuffed, then drinks down two glasses of orange juice.

After breakfast, the stylists arrive. They look like they could be brother and sister. Impossibly pale and slender with green hair and lips, the woman is wearing a simple black dress, the man a black suit. They each have a large garment bag thrown over their shoulders. The woman has a prep team trailing behind her, so she must be Annie's. They both dot kisses on each of Finnick's cheeks, then Mags', then Mena's, and then turn to the tributes. The woman takes Annie's hands.

"I'm Stella," she purrs in her thick Capitol accent.

"Irving," says the man in a similar tone.

"We're here to make you both look like gods," Stella says. Annie finds this a touch overdramatic but doesn't say anything. She shoots a look at Finnick, who nods. She turns back and smiles widely.

"Come, come," Irving says, leading Sebastian back to his room. He and Annie exchange nervous glances, and then Stella starts pulling her by the wrists to her bedroom. The prep team follows, the makeup bags in their hands rattling while they shake with excitement. Annie's thankful that her group arrived last night. Any of the tributes arriving today would have to go immediately into a random prep room for the day. She's at least on semi-familiar ground.

Once inside, Stella sits on the bed while the prep team shoves Annie into the bathroom. They introduce themselves while they strip her down to nothing.

"I'm Straya," says a tall wiry woman with white hair and cat whiskers.

"Caplan." A short curvy woman with striking maroon tattoos all over her turquoise skin.

"Hugo." The only man. He has light blue skin and red, orange, and yellow streaked hair. He's transformed his head into a giant fireball. Annie stares at him in mild bewilderment for a moment. At least it manages to distract her from the fact that she's completely naked in front of three strangers. They circle her body, taking in every flaw, every hair, every broken nail that she's chewed off. She crosses her arms over her chest, but Caplan uncrosses them. They need to see everything. It occurs to her on their third rotation that she hasn't even introduced herself.

"I'm Annie," she offers, awkwardly, breaking the silence.

"Oh, honey, we know," Straya says.

"District Four victory this year, right?" Hugo says excitedly.

"You're going to be a hit, everyone will want to sponsor you," Caplan chimes in. "Well, it also doesn't hurt that Finnick Odair is your mentor. I think I'd volunteer, too, if it meant spending a week training with him."

"Same. Here," Straya says, enunciating each syllable while nodding enthusiastically. Annie feels her stomach turn over.

Hugo punches a series of buttons in on the shower. A jet of steaming, fragrant water shoots out of the spout on the wall. They shove her into it and start scrubbing her down and washing her hair. It actually hurts, like they're scraping off a layer of her skin in order to get her clean. Then the water stops and they pull her into a machine that completely dries her in a matter of moments. A chair is pulled out of nowhere, and Annie is pushed into it. Now the "real" process, as they call it, can start. They begin by waxing her legs, which makes her cry out with pain.

"You'll get used to it," Caplan tells her, almost, but not quite, apologetically.

She runs a hand across her stinging, now smooth thigh.

"I'm like a child again," she says, half horrified, half impressed.

"Isn't it great?" Straya exclaims.

Next they make her stand to do her stomach, her arms, under her arms, and the little invisible hairs on her face, which sting the most. By the end of it, she's positive that a layer of skin is gone. But then they rub her down with some sort of salve, and it immediately soothes the pain. Hugo holds out a silk robe, which she gratefully puts on before sitting back in the chair.

Caplan stands over her, holding her face, plucking strands from her eyebrows. Simultaneously, Straya applies fake nails and paints them the same pearly aqua color that Hugo puts on her toenails. When Caplan finishes, she brushes out Annie's hair and curls it with a machine. Then she brushes it out again. Straya and Hugo flash dry her nails, and then do her makeup.

When they're all finished, Annie doesn't recognize herself in the mirror. The girl reflected at her has soft, glowing skin. Her face is perfectly contoured. Her eyes are an intense sea green because of the shades of blue blended over her eyelids. Her lips aren't chapped; they're full and glossy. Her hair almost floats around her face and shoulders. Straya sighs as they admire their handy work.

"See? Now you look human," she says with another sigh.

Before she can say anything, the robe is pulled off her and she's ushered out into her bedroom. A small table has been set up with snacks, which Annie walks to and begins picking over. There are only small things, like apples and crackers and cheese, but it's better than nothing. _It's not much, but it's better than most_, Annie reminds herself. Stella stands up and walks a full circle around her. Annie can feel the stylist's eyes on every naked inch of her body. She awkwardly swallows the mouthful of apple and cheese she'd been chewing and leaves the snack table alone.

"Perfect," Stella says when she's finished her rounds. Straya, Caplan, and Hugo all audibly relax. "You may leave."

"Good luck, Annie!" Caplan calls, and then they leave her alone with Stella.

"I spent almost all year designing a giant octopus dress," she says. Annie's eyes go wide as she imagines herself with tentacles. "But then I saw you at the reaping, and I knew. I couldn't just make you an ordinary, run-of-the-mill sea creature." She holds up the garment bag. "I had to make you a mermaid."

"A mermaid?"

Stella nods and unzips the bag in her hands. Although Annie hates the idea of becoming a half-fish mutant for the whole country, she gasps. The tail looks like it's made of actual fish scales that change color as Stella turns it in her hands. The top, though, seems to just be two actual seashells. How are they going to stay on? With magic? She has a sudden vision of the shells falling off halfway through the opening ceremonies and she swallows, hard, to hide her doubt. Stella smiles at her.

"Well?"

"It's beautiful," she says, completely honestly in spite of her nerves. Stella's smile gets wider, and she pulls the tail from the hanger.

It's skin tight, and takes both of them twenty minutes to pull on over Annie's hips. It stops just below her knees before fanning out behind her.

"Walk around a little," Stella tells her. Even though there's absolutely zero wiggle room between the tail and her skin, she finds it surprisingly easy to move in. The fabric is also light and doesn't squeeze or pinch her. When she turns back to Stella, it's with some admiration. She stands perfectly still while Stella attaches the shells to her chest with small invisible straps and adjusts them so that Annie has actual, full breasts.

"I don't even look like myself," Annie says. She looks like a weird, alternate universe version of herself where she's about 25 and lives underwater.

Stella laughs and drapes a long string of pearls around her neck.

"That's the point, dear," she says. She then picks up the starfish barrette from the bedside table. "Do you mind if I use this?" Annie shakes her head and Stella clips it into her hair.

It may not be a good idea, but Annie decides that she likes this woman as she brushes some sort of shimmer onto her visible skin. Depending on the light, she glows pale pink in some places and shines light green in others. Only in direct light, though. When she stands away from the spotlight before her mirror, her skin is smooth and pale, like a pearl.

Stella helps her into her shoes, which are low heels that attach to her feet with straps that look like strings of tiny bubbles. They stay snug and tight, though. It hits her that a lot more goes into fashion than she had ever dreamed of. Of course, all she normally wears is her swimsuit under a plain dress.

Stella slides jewel-crusted gold bangles up both of Annie's arms, and then she's done. She looks in the mirror again. It's almost impossible that the girl in the mirror is her. But then, there's her eyes, and the tiny birthmark on her neck, which is now mostly obscured by the pearly sheen. She twirls and the fan of her skirt flies out behind her in various shades of purple, green, and blue.

Still, it's unnerving. She doesn't feel like herself at all. There's a strange thing going on inside her, like she's two people; the girl in the mirror, and herself, and they're both trying to take control. She looks glorious in this outfit. But it's not who she is. She reminds herself that it's only for a night. She can pretend to be this girl for one measly little night.

"You ready?" Stella asks.

"As I'll ever be," Annie says.

Stella holds her by the elbow and helps her walk down the hall until she gets the hang of the heels. When they step into the main room, Annie winces to see all five pairs of eyes flip immediately to her. There's complete silence until Mena lets out a squeal of delight.

"Annie, you look stunning!" she half-screams. "You're an absolute genius, Stella!"

Sebastian's mouth is actually open. He's wearing a large gold net that's been folded around him several times and then thrown over his shoulder. The little holes are filled with various jewels and pearls. His skin looks a little tanner, though that could just be a trick of the light. Sandals with strings that tie up to his knees cover his feet. He looks nice, too. Annie tries to tell him, but the words get stuck in her throat.

Irving asks Annie to twirl, and she does, which makes Mena shriek again. Mags looks like she's about to cry.

"Beautiful," she says. Annie almost screams. It's the first word she's ever heard Mags say. She looks to Finnick, who knows the old woman, hoping he'll have some sort of explanation.

Finnick, however, apparently didn't even hear Mags. He's staring at Annie with the same expression she had in the mirror. He's confused and perplexed, but on the whole mesmerized. Then he meets her gaze, and she knows. He sees right through her. He knows she doesn't belong here, in this costume, in the Games at all. He looks away quickly.

"Alright, now, everyone in the elevator!" Mena sings. "Let's show Panem how gorgeous you both are!" Sebastian makes a face at the word "gorgeous."

When they all pile in the elevator, Annie somehow ends up next to Finnick.

"You look pretty ridiculous, Cresta," he whispers to her.

"I still look better than you, though," she whispers back. He lets out a quick laugh.

"Tell me, were you born funny, or is that what you learned instead of combat training?"

She shrugs. "Guess I didn't have a very good sparring instructor."

They look at each other and smile. Annie feels warmth begin to pool in her stomach. Like they're back in 4, swimming together. Then the elevator dings and the doors open to the staging area for the opening ceremonies, and Finnick's mask is back on.

The staging area is vast and intimidating. This is the first time she's seen the other tributes in person. As unimpressive as they were onscreen, she still finds it overwhelming. Pretty soon all of them except one will be dead. She shudders at that thought and allows Mags to lead her over to the District 4 carriage. Mena waves a quick goodbye and heads out to the audience.

Annie recognizes the girl from 3 at the carriage in front of her. She's tall, not particularly well-muscled, but definitely graceful. Her costume is ridiculous, a long black dress covered in gold lightning bolts and an actual giant lightbulb that glows on her head, but she is undeniably attractive. Probably smart, too, the tributes from 3 usually are. Annie makes a mental note to try to get her as an ally, no matter what Finnick says.

Stella walks right up to Annie and does a few last minute adjustments. Smooth out the little fold in the tail. Make sure her hair curls in the right direction. Only the little things. Then she kisses Annie on each cheek and stands back. Finnick takes her hand and helps her up into the carriage.

"You know, Mags is right," he says. She's barely even paying attention as she tries to stand up straight. He's still holding her hand.

"About what?" she asks.

"You look beautiful, Cresta," he says, so softly she almost doesn't hear him. She snaps her head down to look at him, expecting to see a smirk or hear his punchline. He's smiling, but softly. His features suggest honesty, even humbleness. The warmth starts spreading from Annie's stomach again. Her face suddenly feels hot.

Then the anthem starts playing, the carriage starts moving, and Finnick drops her hand as he steps back to the sidelines. She wants to look back at him, but forces herself to face forward as the horses pull her into the brightly lit stadium.

The crowd at the reaping yesterday was laughably small compared to the one that fills the space around her now. District 4 is a small dinner party with a few friends. This is like trying to house all of Panem in her tiny apartment back home. There's a collective gasp when the light hits her skin, and then everyone goes insane. Stella did an amazing job. If there's anything the Capitol citizens like, it's colors. Well, and jewels. And shiny things that catch their eyes. And, right now, Annie is all of those things to them. She smiles widely and blows some kisses into the crowd.

"What did Finnick want?" Sebastian asks from somewhere next to her. She forgot about him for a moment. He's also smiling widely and waving to the crowd.

"Just to remind me to be loveable and to do something more than wave," she lies, blowing a few more kisses.

"I don't see why he had to remind you," Sebastian says. "In that outfit? You're a hit, Annie. Just look at the crowd. You could probably stop everything you're doing right now and just stand here and they'd still love you."

This is probably true. As the carriages all stop and President Snow gives his speech about the Hunger Games, she becomes aware of the colors dancing off her skin, the eyes in the crowd that never even leave her.

Suddenly, the lights are too hot. The costume is too tight, too revealing. The whole stadium is distorted into waves. She can feel every bit of makeup on her skin. She wants to scratch it all off, but knows she can't. She forces a deep breath into her lungs, but it doesn't want to stick. She grabs Sebastian's hand when the speech ends and the carriages start back to the staging area.

"Are you okay?" he whispers.

"No," she whispers back. But what's wrong? She was fine a moment ago. A crease forms between his eyebrows, but he's still putting on his show for the crowd.

"Smile. Wave," he whispers.

She still can't breathe properly, but she forces her lips into her umpteenth fake smile. Her hand is somehow in the air, moving back and forth to the appreciative Capitol citizens, though her other one won't let go of Sebastian. She can almost feel Finnick shaking his head from here. So much for her vicious killer image.

She's still shaking when the carriages make their loop back to the staging area, so Sebastian helps her climb down. Finnick and Mags are already there. His hands are on her arms, but gently, and he isn't even yelling. He's frantic, though, but in a concerned way. Mags stands next to Annie and throws her arms around her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Finnick asks. "You looked like you were about to pass out right on the carriage."

"I'm fine," Annie tells him. He looks at her pointedly, like he knows she's lying. "Okay, I'm not. I don't know what happened."

He moves to her unoccupied side, slides his arm around her shoulders, and pulls her into him. She doesn't know why, but her breathing suddenly regulates. Mags stays close, but drops her arms to her own sides. The three of them move as a sort of unit. She barely even has to walk on her own because Finnick steers her back to the elevators, where Mena, Sebastian, and the stylists join them.

On the way back to their floor, Mena prattles about how amazing they both looked. Apparently the Capitol citizens didn't really notice when Annie stopped breathing, which both disturbs and comforts her. Finnick just holds her while she observes her shaking hands.

When they get to the floor, they watch the opening ceremonies. Nothing too eventful happens, though. Stella and Irving comment on everyone else's horrible costumes. Annie's freak out isn't even incredibly obvious. Then the recap ends, and the stylists leave with Mena. Mags decides to go to bed early. She says goodnight to both Finnick and Annie with a kiss on the cheek before hugging Sebastian tightly around the middle. Finnick decides to stay in the living room for awhile, but Sebastian and Annie both need showers.

"Goodnight, Annie," he says, pulling her into one of his rib-cracking hugs.

Once she's down the hall and in her room, she locks the door and unceremoniously peels every last bit of her costume off. It's now in a crumpled mess on the floor, but she doesn't care. She jumps in the shower and scrubs until every last bit of makeup is washed down the drain. Only her nail polish stays on. Once she's clean, she opts to towel dry instead of using the drying machine. She pulls on some simple leggings and a plain blue shirt and climbs into bed with wet hair.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, she realizes she can't get to sleep. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees the crowd, the lights, her own inhuman skin. Finally, she sits up. There's zero chance of her sleeping just yet. She's too wound up. Maybe Finnick is still in the living room. He calmed her down before.

Annie slides out of bed and down the hall. Luckily, she was right. The first thing she sees is Finnick, sitting on the couch, tying a long, thin rope into a delicate knot.

"Finnick?" she asks. He jumps and immediately drops the rope.

"Hey, Cresta," he says without turning around.

She walks around the couch and settles down next to him.

"Is this okay?" she asks.

"Oh, yeah," he says, turning to her. "Of course."

They don't speak for a few minutes, even though there's something clearly wrong with both of them.

"What's with the rope?" When she speaks, it's barely above a whisper. There's no judgment in her voice, only curiosity.

"Nervous habit," he says. Then, after a moment, "Can't sleep?"

"No."

"I can't either." He looks at her. "Are you okay? I mean, from earlier."

"No," she admits, even though she does feel a lot better. "I hate it here. I saw all those people looking at me, and I felt like an alien, and I haven't even felt like myself since the morning before the reaping, and everyone's just buttering me up to die. Including you."

He goes back to tying his knot at her last two words.

"You don't belong here, Cresta," he says, pulling the rope straight and starting another knot.

"You could even say I'm a fish out of water," she offers. "Or, I guess, a mermaid out of water, if you want to get technical."

"Is this really the time for jokes?" he asks, looking at her.

"No," she says without smiling. "But it's the only thing getting me through this." She thinks about earlier, when he refused to let go of her until they were back on the floor and he was convinced she had calmed down. "That and you," she admits.

His cheeks burn red and he goes back to his knot.

"I've been a jerk to you," he says after a few minutes. "I thought it would toughen you up or something. I didn't even bother to ask what you need from me. I've been a pretty bad mentor."

"Terrible," she agrees. "You should be fired."

"Or executed."

"At least."

He laughs and drops his knot on the ground, lays his hands over his crossed legs, and looks into Annie's eyes.

"What do you need from me?" he asks.

She shrugs. "I don't know. Support? Advice on how to stay alive without killing anyone?"

"Cresta," he says, his face grave. "I don't know how possible that is. You don't know how it is in the arena. I thought I could get through it without killing a lot of people. But then everyone seemed to think I was a threat. And Mags was back home, and she's pretty dependent on me. So I did what I had to."

"I just don't want to kill anyone, Finnick."

Another long silence. Annie can tell he wants to pick up his rope and keep tying knots, but he doesn't. Instead he picks at the hem of his pants.

"I'm not sure I can help with that," he says after a long time. "I'm not a very good person, Cresta."

It occurs to her that she's been wrong about Finnick the entire time. In this moment, Annie can see right down to his core. She can see the sad, funny, delicate, nervous, gentle person he is. He tries to hide all of that by being cocky and self-involved, but everything he really is shines through. She leans forward and, lightly, kisses his cheek.

"Yes, you are," she tells him.

She's down the hall and in her room before he can do anything more than brush his fingers across the spot where her lips were.


	4. Porcelain

Annie's awake the next morning before Mena can come in and do her human alarm clock act. This is a good sign. She can't rely on Mena forever, especially since she'll be in the arena in a few days. If she doesn't get in the habit of waking herself up now, she'll probably sleep through the Games.

She actually laughs at that thought. That would be quite the strategy. She could find some tall tree, make sure the branches hid her, and then sleep until everyone else is dead. No one would even see it coming. But then the image of Sebastian, dead on the ground, kills all the amusement in this fantasy. She's barely spoken to him so far, but he's been nothing but nice. He did hold her hand when she was freaking out on the carriage. And those giant hugs are friendly, even if they are a little painful. She imagines his toothy smile wiped from his face, his soft brown eyes staring, open and vacant, at nothing.

The arena doesn't seem even remotely funny anymore.

She shudders and gets out of bed. Training starts today. Which means she needs to focus on making allies and learning skills. She haphazardly pulls her long, dark hair into a ponytail. Bits of her hair stick out at random, but she ignores them.

Sometime while she was sleeping, someone came in to clean her room. She only notices because her costume from last night is now gone. There's also a simple black uniform hanging from her mirror with the number 4 printed on it. A pair of matching running shoes sits under it.

She sighs, strips off the clothes she slept in, and pulls on this new outfit. It's so comfortable she can hardly believe it's even there. The shoes have soft soles and good traction. She tries a few stretches to test everything out. It all fits and moves like a dream. She wonders if Stella had any hand in making these clothes.

There's a knock on her door, and Mena comes in before Annie can yell that she's already awake.

"Oh, good, you're up!" Mena sings. Today her hair is black, long, and straight, but the rest of her outfit, including her makeup, is a pale lavender. "Come get some food before training starts!"

Annie's stomach grumbles. She leaves her bed unmade and follows Mena down the hall to the main room, where the familiar smell of fish fills the air. Annie makes a small, eager noise. As she approaches the table, already arranging a plate in her head, Mags pats the seat next to her. This tradition Annie likes. She sits down and piles her plate with eggs and salmon filets and bread.

Glancing around the oddly quiet table, she notices the guys aren't out yet, which strikes Annie as odd. Maybe not for Finnick, he was still awake when she went to bed last night, and he can technically sleep as long as he wants to today. But Sebastian, who's so eager for the Games, and wants to show how good he is, should be awake by now. Mena seems to read her mind, because she clicks down the boys' hall in teetering heels. It's a miracle Mena hasn't killed herself on those yet. Annie could barely walk in heels half that height.

She tries to wait for the guys, but another noise from her stomach tells her that'll be impossible. Especially when she can't remember the last time she had salmon. She starts by taking just a few bites, while Mags puts some food on her plate, but that soon turns into a whole strip of fish and half her eggs before Mena comes back with Sebastian.

"Good morning," he says cheerfully. Mags smiles widely at him. Annie makes a noise that's supposed to be "hello," but the word gets stuck behind a mouthful of bread. Sebastian is also already in his uniform, which matches hers. He's apparently starving as well, because he doesn't say another word as he sits in the closest chair and starts shoveling food onto the plate in front of him.

Being from District 4, Annie knows neither of them ever went hungry. There was always enough food there. Every few years, they'd experience a shortage, but her dad would always take her fishing to make up for it. In her entire life, Annie had gone to bed hungry maybe twice. But all their food was very bland. Some grain portion to make gruel or bread, which they flavor with seaweed. Some fish, cooked with oil. That's all they really need. She's never heard a complaint about the plain food, though. It's strange to her that now all she and Sebastian can do is eat like they've been starved. She can't imagine how the kids from other districts must be reacting to all this rich food.

She finishes her second filet and starts on the rest of her eggs when Finnick comes out of his room, rubbing his eyes, and sits on Annie's other side.

"Late night?" she asks. He shoots her a look.

"Good morning to you, too, Cresta," he says, nudging her with his elbow. He pours himself a cup of a strong-smelling brown liquid that he adds milk and three sugar cubes to.

"What is that?" she asks him, her mouth filled with eggs.

"Coffee," he replies, taking a long sip. "Want to try it?"

He offers the cup to her. She sets down her plate and takes it from him. He watches her as she takes a sip and immediately spits it back into the mug. It's overbearingly sweet, and on top of that, she can still taste the bitterness. Every head in the room snaps to her. Mena smiles, but rolls her eyes. Mags, after seeing that Annie is okay, goes back to her meal. Sebastian laughs so hard he starts coughing.

"It's awful," she exclaims. "I don't know how you can stand something that sweet."

Finnick takes his cup back from her and stares into it.

"Luckily, I don't have that problem with you," he says, a small smile curling at his lips as he pours himself another cup of coffee.

They all finish their meals in silence. Finnick seems to be holding back a laugh, but Annie's a little ashamed. It seems unlikely that she'll ever stop making herself look like an idiot in front of Finnick. But why does she care about that?

A little after nine, Mena claps her hands twice.

"It's time to go!" she says, and begins to usher Sebastian and Annie, who both still have food in their mouths, onto the elevator. Finnick turns in his chair to yell final advice over his shoulder.

"Remember to make friends with One and Two," he calls. "Learn something new today. That means a weapon, Cresta."

She waves without turning around to let him know she heard him. Then they're on the elevator, and Mena tells them which button to press. Annie thought she'd accompany them down, but they're Career tributes. They can't have their escort accompany them. Just before the doors close, Annie locks eyes with Finnick. He gives her a weak smile before the metal gates separate them.

"Are you nervous?" Sebastian asks. The entire training center grows before them as the elevator pulls them down.

"A little. You?" She notices her hands are shaking and rubs them together.

He shrugs.

"A little. What do you think you'll learn today?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll wait and see what's down there."

He nods and they don't talk for awhile as they glide further and further down.

"Finnick's right, you know," he says. "You should get good at a weapon."

"I don't want to kill anyone, though," she admits.

"I don't think any of us want to kill anyone."

She looks at Sebastian. He's smiling a little, but his eyes are heavy. He pulls off the moronic puppy dog athlete thing really well, but Annie thinks that maybe she misjudged him. Maybe he's also wearing a mask, only his is successful. She returns his small smile.

"Thank you," she suddenly blurts.

"For what?" he asks, taken aback.

"The carriage. Last night. Helping me stay steady when I couldn't breathe."

He actually laughs.

"Oh, that. What are district partners for?"

The words are barely out of his mouth when the elevator stops and the doors slide open. Annie crosses her arms to hide her still shaking hands.

The entire room is filled with large, soft pads, weapons of all kinds, various stations covered with paints and ropes and plants. There's a large panel set high in the wall on one side where a large group of people sit, surrounded by food and talking to each other. The Gamemakers. Annie knows they check on the tributes' progress, but she didn't realize they'd be there from the beginning. She forces her eyes away from them to take in the rest of the room.

She and Sebastian are some of the first people there. The District 5 tributes are standing nervously near the station marked EDIBLE PLANTS. Neither of them looks at the other. Districts 10 and 12 are also there, standing in the middle looking lost. And District 2 is there, stretching out on the pads. They're both huge. The girl is at least twice Annie's size, and probably a full six inches taller. They both have dark hair and huge muscles. A shudder goes down Annie's spine as the boy spins a spear almost expertly in his hands. Then the girl notices her and Sebastian, taps the boy's shoulder, and they both walk over to the elevator.

"I'm Titus," the boy says, holding out his hand. Sebastian shakes it, heartily.

"Romana," the girl says, giving a curt nod. Annie's glad she doesn't offer her hand. Romana could probably crush her skull between her fingers with no problem. "You're the mermaid girl, right? You looked great last night. I was basically just a giant rock. What the hell is that? If I killed you right now, do you think they'd let me have your stylist?"

Annie feels all the color drain from her face. Titus laughs.

"She's kidding," he explains.

"Obviously," Romana says. "I have to save that for the arena."

Annie makes a mental note to kill Finnick when she gets back to the floor for telling her to align herself with these people.

All at once, the rest of the tributes arrive. When District 1 shows up, they immediately join their little group of Careers and introduce themselves. The boy is about 16, tall, muscular, the usual. His name is Ivory. The girl is blonde and shockingly small for District 1. Her name is Holiday. The rest of the tributes mostly stick to their district partners and stay quiet. Then the head trainer steps forward, gives them a quick rundown of all the stations, and leaves them to their own devices.

"I'll be at the sword station," Holiday announces. She sounds bored. Sebastian decides to join her. Titus, Romana, and Ivory all go to archery, leaving Annie alone to explore the room. She casts her eyes around and sees the girl from District 3, sitting alone at the knot station. Perfect.

"I'm Annie," she announces, sitting next to the girl and picking up a length of rope. She looks Annie up and down curiously. It's understandable. She's technically supposed to be a Career.

"I'm Hera," the girl finally replies as her fingers fumble over a complicated knot.

"Do you want help?" Annie asks. She shows Hera how to tie the knot using her own rope.

"Thanks," Hera says, still somewhat weary.

The instructor guides them through a few more knots, most of them fairly complicated. Annie gets them all down the first time without looking.

"How are you so good at these?" Hera asks with a shaky laugh.

Annie smiles. She's been tying knots since birth, basically. Her father works out on the fishing boats, and he would always bring rope home and show her how to tie it. Once, when she was about eight, he brought her out on the boat with him, and she tied knots and watched the water all day.

School was cancelled that day. Or maybe she just didn't want to go, she can't exactly remember. She kept running around the boat and getting tangled in the net. Some of the other fishermen were getting fed up, but kept their cool, because she was only a child. Her father finally sat her down and put a rope in her hands. He told her to practice her knots, then smiled, ruffled her hair, and kissed her on the forehead.

Her stomach aches at the memory. She last saw her dad a couple days ago, not even, but it feels like it's been months. She wishes he were here now. Finnick somehow helps with the growing ache that started in her heart when she volunteered for Twenny, that has now spread to every inch of her body. But she knows her dad would help with that even more. He'd pull her into his arms and say only a few words, and she'd be fine. That's what happened whenever the other kids would beat her up because they knew she wouldn't fight back, at least.

Hera's questioning face breaks her train of thought, but she didn't hear what she said.

"What?" she asks.

"I asked if you wanted to go to the edible plants station," Hera says, sweeping her long, dark hair behind her shoulder.

Annie glances over to the other Careers, her supposed allies. Holiday is throwing axes into bullseyes. The rest are moving to the knives. Sebastian catches her eye and waves her over. She should join them. Finnick said to learn a weapon. Finnick said to team up with 1 and 2. But her gut is telling her that Hera is better, safer.

Stay safe. That's what her dad told her when they said goodbye.

She shakes her head to clear her mind and looks back at Hera. The girl was appropriately named. She towers over Annie. With her shiny hair and olive skin, she looks like she could be a goddess.

"Edible plants sounds good," Annie replies. Then, thinking of Finnick, she adds, "But after let's try archery."

Hera nods and, together, they work through both stations before lunch. Annie decides she likes Hera. She knows a lot about the edible plants, which is odd, considering she's from District 3.

"How are you doing this?" Annie asks when Hera successfully completes the entire chart of berries and leaves.

"I made it my business to learn some survival basics in case I was reaped," she replies in a low voice, making sure the instructor and other tributes can't hear her.

"So you're also a Career?" Annie asks, marking another plant on her own chart.

"That one's not edible," Hera says, correcting her. Annie swears and fixes it. "And I wouldn't say I'm a Career. I wouldn't say I came with an advantage. I only taught myself things that would keep me alive. Nothing that would kill another person."

"Why's that?"

"So no one could accuse me of being a Career," she replies, eyebrows raised to Annie. She feels her face drain of its warmth. It's true, she got prior training in combat and weapons, but who knows how much of it stuck. Still, it's not a good idea to broadcast how unprepared and unwilling to kill she is.

"Point taken," she murmurs.

Hera helps her finish her chart and they move on to archery, which it turns out Annie is pretty good at. All of her arrows at least hit the little circle in the dummy's chest. Hera starts out horrible. Her first three arrows miss entirely, but after that she manages to hit an arm or a leg or somewhere in the torso. Her last arrow flies right into the dummy's head.

"Did you see that?" she asks, dumbfounded. "Kill shot!"

Annie half-heartedly cheers, but Hera doesn't even seem to notice. She retrieves her arrow, and then the head trainer calls out that it's lunchtime.

They all file into a large room filled with tables. The far wall is laid out with food in trays so they can serve themselves. Annie smells fish and her stomach aches for her father again.

"Want to sit with us?" Hera asks. "Leeri can get annoying, but he's alright."

She points to a table where the boy from 3 sits. He's tiny and has bright red hair and pale skin. He must be 13 at the oldest.

Across the room, Annie sees Sebastian going through the food line.

"I should eat with my district partner or my mentor might eat me," Annie says.

"Isn't your mentor Finnick Odair?" Hera asks, blushing a little, like she's been waiting for her to bring it up.

"Yes. Why?"

"You want to trade?" she asks, laughing. "I don't think I'd complain if he ate me."

Annie's cheeks are suddenly on fire.

"I'll see you after lunch, okay?" she says, and heads over to the food line before Hera can say anything else about Finnick.

She picks up a plate and tries to focus on what food she's putting on it, but all she can see is the woman jumping out of the crowd to kiss Finnick when they first got to the Capitol, and then how defeated he looked when they were away from the public. He'd probably be upset by Hera's comment. That must be why it's affecting Annie so much. She shakes her head and turns around to find Sebastian, who's sitting in the middle of the room with 1 and 2. She takes a deep breath and walks over to them.

"Where were you all morning?" Romana asks when Annie puts her plate down and slides onto the seat.

"Training," she says, shrugging. "I thought you knew that."

What is she doing? Why can't she control the things she says? She's beginning to panic, but Holiday laughs. Romana shoots her a look.

"What? She's funny," Holiday says. Romana looks back to Annie.

"I know we're training. Which stations? We all thought you'd learn weapons with us all day." Everyone looks at her, except for Sebastian, who is suddenly very interested in his pasta.

"I was learning survival skills," Annie says. "I thought one of us should. I still have time to learn weapons, but I wanted to be sure I could get us food."

That answer came from nowhere, but they seem satisfied by it, because they all go back to eating. The truth is she doesn't want to be anywhere near them. They're huge and bloodthirsty and unpleasant. But Finnick said to ally with them. Getting along with monsters is what's going to keep her alive. She glances over at Hera as she picks at the swordfish on her plate. Hera would be a much better ally. She's smart, she's strong, she's just going to get better and better with weapons, she doesn't make Annie fear for her life.

Her dad told her to stay safe. Finnick said to get friendly with 1 and 2. Even though his suggestion feels wrong, listening to him doesn't. He's her mentor. He's lived through the Games. Anything he says will probably be pretty sound advice on how to keep living.

She swallows the mouthful of fish and rice she's been chewing for much too long and keeps eating, only half-listening to Titus prattle on about sword technique until lunch is over, when they're all herded back into the training room. For a moment, Annie's worried she'll have to stick with the Career group for the rest of the day, but they walk over to the archery station. She tells the group she spent part of the morning there, and quickly walks over to the knife station, where Hera is standing.

Knives are easier than arrows. Annie misses the first few, but then hits the center of the target every time. There. That should make Finnick happy. Hera struggles with the knives, but still manages to stick a couple in the dummies. When they're done, they move on to snares. After knots, snares are simple. They both master all of them quickly, and then it's time to go.

"See you tomorrow?" Hera asks.

Annie nods and then runs to join Sebastian on the elevator. They have to share with District 5, who both stay silent the whole time and stare out the back wall at the expansive courtyard that cuts through the middle of the training center.

"How was your day?" Sebastian asks. Annie expected him to be a little mad that she ditched him, but his tone is pleasant. The District 5 tributes both jump when he speaks.

"It was good. I learned a lot." She shrugs.

"Do you mind if I join you tomorrow?" he asks. She's taken aback by the question.

"Of course not. What are district partners for?"

The elevator stops just then and the door slides open at their floor. Annie swears the District 5 tributes let out deep breaths when she and Sebastian leave. They must have seen her with the knives, or him with whatever weapons he learned today, or maybe both. Couple that with their status as Careers, and it's easy for her to see why they'd be nervous.

Finnick and Mags are waiting for them in their living room. Mena is not.

"Where's Mena?" Annie asks.

"She's checking on dinner or shopping or something," Finnick answers, frustration ringing clear in his voice. "I can only listen to Capitol citizens for so long."

She doesn't know what he did today, but whatever it was put him in a bad mood. She and Sebastian exchange a look but don't say anything.

"I learned knives today," Annie says, quietly, hoping to cheer him up. He does perk up a bit.

"You listened to me?" he asks. She nods.

"We also made friends with One and Two," Sebastian offers. "Well, I did at least." Annie elbows him to shut him up, but it's too late.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Finnick asks, looking between them both.

"Annie trained with the girl from Three all day."

"Her name is Hera," Annie snaps. "And maybe I would've spent more time with you all if Romana hadn't started the day by threatening to kill me."

"So you only half listened to me," Finnick says.

"No, I listened. I ate lunch with them. I was just unnerved by the death threat."

"They're trained killers, Cresta. What did you want? A hug?"

"No!" When did she start shouting? "But it's not unreasonable for me to be upset when I wake up to a death threat!"

At this point, Sebastian has fallen silent. Mags steps forward and places a hand on Finnick's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. He flinches before waving her away and taking a step closer to Annie.

"I get that you don't want to be here," he says as calmly as he can. "I don't either. I wish there was a way for us to be swimming back home. I would make that happen in a heartbeat. That said, you signed up for this, Cresta. You volunteered. I want to help you stay alive, and I want to help you do it your way. But you have to meet me halfway. One and Two are hard to get along with, but that's how you survive in the arena. Got it?"

"Yes," she says. The word almost sticks in her throat and comes out much quieter than she intended.

"Good," he says. "What all did you learn today?"

"Snares," she begins, shakily. "Knives, archery, edible plants, and knots."

He smirks.

"You don't know knots, Cresta?"

"I wanted a refresher."

Finnick shakes his head and turns to Sebastian.

"How about you?"

"Swords, knives, archery," Sebastian replies.

Finnick nods.

"Alright, then. And you're getting along with One and Two?" he asks.

"As much as I can with them," Sebastian mutters. Annie almost smiles at him. She thought he was going to be another super Career when he was reaped, but he's turning out to be an actual human being. If she's not careful, Annie may end up being his friend. Her stomach sinks at that thought.

"Good," Finnick says. He starts down the hall to his room. "I need a shower before dinner."

"What's wrong with him today?" Sebastian asks as soon as they hear his door slide shut behind him. Mags stares sadly towards his room.

"I don't know," Annie says. He was nothing but pleasant this morning. Almost like the morning of the reaping. She chews the inside of her lip carefully. "He seems upset, though."

Some impulse pushes her forward. Maybe if she talks to him, he'll feel better. Maybe she can comfort him like he comforted her. But Mags grabs her arm before she can go more than a few steps and shakes her head.

"Long day," she says softly. Annie didn't notice last night, but Mags' voice is strained, like there's something actually wrong with it. It's widely assumed in District 4 that she doesn't speak by choice, or due to trauma from her Games. Some kids made up wild stories about how she lost a bet or fought off a giant squid, but Annie never believed them.

Mags places a hand on Annie's shoulder, and her other one on Sebastian's, and squeezes. Annie can't help but smile. She's telling them she's proud of them. Why she can't say it out loud, Annie doesn't know. She decides not to press her too much, though. Maybe if she comes home, then she'll ask.

Then her stomach sinks again. If she comes home. She'd almost forgotten about the Games. It's the "if" that trips her up, and her hands begin to shake. She quietly excuses herself and goes down to her own room, even though her legs and stomach want her to go to Finnick's, despite Mags' warning.

Mood swings or no, he would know what to say. Or, at the very least, he would help calm her down.

She flops onto her bed and pulls a pillow over her face. So far, she's managed to avoid these sorts of thoughts. While her imminent death has been looming over her, she hasn't put a lot of thought into the arena. Or the other tributes. Or how to walk out of there alive.

This morning, the training room seemed packed to her. People were all over the place, learning the same skills she was. Out of all of them, only one can live. She presses the pillow down and screams into it.

Finnick's right. She needs to stop doing what feels safe, because it's just going to get her killed faster. After meeting the other Careers, she feels even less confident in her odds of winning, but she might be able to make it pretty far. She could still show everyone, her parents, the country, the kids who beat her up in school, that she's not some porcelain doll that can shatter at any moment.

In a few days, or weeks, she could even go home. She could see the ocean again, move in next to Finnick and Mags, learn how to make jewelry, and never have to worry about herself or her parents ever again. They had enough food now, but, if she won, they could have plenty. And more variety. Maybe they could recreate some of the Capitol meals. She could go swimming every day, with Finnick, at the private beach in the Victors' Village. Her heart pounds a little faster at that thought.

Of course, she wouldn't be the same if she won. She'd have to split herself down the middle. Capitol Annie, and home Annie. What everyone wants to see, and who she really is. If she won, though, who she really is would be entirely different. She's seen it in the faces of the victors when they walk around 4, or the ones who visit on their victory tour. The smiles look natural, but feel forced. It's not that hard to imagine why. Winning means watching 23 other people die before they have the chance to kill you, even killing some of them yourself.

It pains Annie just to watch it every year. It must be hell to actually experience. In just a few days, she'll find that out.

She flips onto her side and pulls the pillow into her chest, wrapping her arms around it. The image of Finnick stabbing a boy in the ribs returns to her. She tries to put herself in his place, tries to imagine and feel what it's like to shove a blade into someone's chest and feel their last breath. Their last heartbeat. The last flicker of their eyes to yours just before they die. Acid crawls up her esophagus, making her choke. She can't do it. She can't kill anyone, even if they're trying to kill her. She folds her arms tighter around herself to steady her hands.

It probably won't come down to that. She'll probably die quickly. Her body will be returned to her parents in a simple wooden box. The funeral will be small, just her parents, probably Finnick and Mags, maybe even Sebastian if he wins. Then they'll forget her and move on. She'll just be another lost tribute, another fallen pawn. No different from any of the others.

Before she can fully embrace her death, though, there's a knock at her door. She gets off her bed, walks over, and presses the button to slide the weird strip of metal open. Doors should be made of wood. Sebastian tells her that dinner is ready, and she walks down to the main room with him.

The whole meal is a mixed bag. Sebastian eats even faster than normal. Annie doesn't think he's even tasting his food. When he finishes, he stares blankly at his empty plate and chews his bottom lip. Neither he or Annie say much of anything. Mena, though, is tittering to Mags, who's politely nodding along, about how the Capitol is just buzzing about Annie. Her entrance at the opening ceremonies made quite the splash, no pun intended, of course, and sponsors are already trying to line up for her.

Annie's only half listening, though, because Finnick is sitting next to her and he's almost back to normal. There's an underlying current of pain or something dark, but he makes small jokes about himself and nudges Annie with his elbow when she doesn't laugh. He knows something's wrong, and he's trying to make her feel better. Her heart beats faster again, like it did when she imagined living next to him in the Victors' Village. By the end of the meal, she manages to honestly laugh.

When dinner is done, everyone is full and sleepy, so they all go immediately back to their rooms after a quick goodnight from Mena.

"You're already a hit," she tells Annie, smoothing down her hair. Her mother used to do the same thing whenever Annie made her proud. Mena dots a kiss to her forehead and then gets back on the elevator and leaves.

Everyone else mumbles goodnight to each other, and then Annie is gratefully back in her bed. She can almost pretend she never left, except for the leftover warmth in her limbs from being around Finnick all night. With a yawn, she turns over and closes her eyes.

But she can't sleep.

Her body is exhausted. The muscles in her arms are tired from throwing knives and pulling bows earlier. Her eyelids droop. She tries to open them, but they don't want to move.

Her mind, though, is buzzing. She's imagining the arena. When the Games begin, she'll have to fight 23 other people for supplies and safety and her own life. Or maybe she'll run off on her own and starve to death. Though, if Mena's right and people are lining up to sponsor her, then food won't be a problem. That's not a horrible idea, really. Run off and hide somewhere and let food come to her in silver parachutes. She makes a mental note to visit the camouflage station tomorrow.

Although, the sponsors probably won't like it very much if she stays completely out of the action. And if she did win by hiding, that probably wouldn't go over well back home. She's going to have to at least fight.

Something squeezes around her stomach and lungs and forces her to her feet. She needs to be in the water right now, but there is no water. She needs to be outside. There's a balcony at the far end of the guys' hall that she noticed earlier. Air will never be better than feeling water stream through her hair and over her arms, but it's better than nothing.

She practically jumps out of bed and moves quietly through the now dark floor. The sliding glass doors that lead outside are directly ahead. She can almost taste the air when a noise makes her stop. It sounds like something breaking, or wood splintering, and it's coming from Finnick's room. Her chest still feels tight, but she can wait. Whatever he's doing, it sounds bad, and she wants to make sure he's not hurt. Her heart starts beating faster as she knocks.

Whatever the noise is, it stops. After a long pause, his door slides open. Finnick is wearing a plain t-shirt over his pajamas, which feels weird to her. Usually he wears a nice shirt or no shirt at all. He seems both relieved and anxious to see her. His eyes are ringed in red.

"Sorry, Cresta, I'm closed for the day," he says with a small smile.

"Not why I'm here," she says, folding her arms over her chest.

"Then what's wrong?" he asks.

"I could ask you the same question."

Neither of them speaks for a long moment. They only look at each other. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, like he doesn't know what she's talking about, but he's also blocking as much of the doorway as possible with his body so she can't see inside. She peers under his arm, though, and gasps when she sees the small pile of destroyed furniture at the far end of his room.

She points to the balcony. Reluctantly, he nods and follows her outside, where they're greeted by a rush of cold city air. It smells like metal and poison and bad weather. She misses the salt-scented air back home. The balcony itself has a few chairs lined close to the wall. Annie sits on the edge of one. Finnick leans against the railing that separates them from a four-story drop to the pavement.

"Why can't you sleep?" he asks, trying to be nonchalant.

"Why do you think?" she says, shakily.

He nods.

"You're right, stupid question."

He turns around so he's facing the city, or as much as they can see. The top floor could probably see the entire city. At least their block is nice. She stands and walks over to lean next to him.

"Finnick, why did you break all the furniture in your room?" she asks.

To her surprise, he actually laughs.

"Because it doesn't matter. I'm stuck here forever. Who cares about a table?"

She wishes he would look at her. Something is hurting him, and she doesn't know what it is, and it's frustrating her that she can't help him. Why is it frustrating her?

"I know you hate being a mentor," she says quietly. "I know you hate coming here and watching people you know die, and—"

"No," he interrupts. "No, that's not the full reason. I hate sending people to their deaths, sure, but I don't know any of them. Five years of mentoring, and you're the only important person I've had to prepare for the arena." His eyes quickly find hers and then flit away to the street below them.

Her throat is suddenly bone dry.

"Then why do you hate coming here?" Her voice is too constricted, too soft, and too scratchy, but he doesn't seem to notice. He takes a deep breath but otherwise doesn't move.

"The truth? My life has become a living, endless hell ever since I won." He speaks slowly, making sure every word is the right one. Her stomach sinks. So she was right. Winning would mean nightmares and guilt and other horrors she can't imagine. He buries his face in his hands. "Do yourself a favor, Cresta. Lose. Don't come home." His voice breaks on the last word. Something between rage and horrible pain seeps cuts through her, forcing tears into her eyes.

Betrayal. This feeling is betrayal.

"You want me to die." It's not a question.

"No." He still won't look at her. She wants to scream at him for it, but she doesn't. "No, I meant what I said earlier. If there was a way to stop everything now and go home, I would do it. But dying in the arena would've been better, would've been easier…."

All her anger dissolves inside her, leaving only pain and forcing out a few more tears. He wasn't talking about her. He hadn't been talking about her in the first place. She can tell he's not fully telling the truth, but, for now, she doesn't really care.

Cautiously, she closes the few feet between them and slips her arms around his shoulders. She's never seen a victor like this, least of all Finnick, who was always happy and sweet, or, more recently, angry and a little scary. He doesn't flinch when she touches him, but he does, finally, turn his head to meet her gaze. He's also crying. At least she's not alone.

"If it helps…." She stops. What would be the best way to phrase this? Now that he's staring at her, she wishes he wouldn't. "I, for one… I'm glad you made it out." A sudden burst of courage makes her add, "I'm glad you're alive, Finnick."

A flicker of something goes through his eyes. He tries to smile, but apparently can't.

"Why?" he asks, and she tightens her arms around him. "If I died, we never would've met. Your life would be the same as it was. You'd have nothing to miss."

She winces at that and rests her head on his shoulder.

"I had no friends before you," she admits. "The kids at school thought I was weak because I hated combat training. They beat me up, and called me names, even put me in the hospital once. So if you think I'd be better off without you-"

She means to keep talking. But at that moment the dam inside her breaks, and she has to pull away from him and bury her face in her arms as she finally, really cries for the first time since the reaping. This is more than a couple tears. Her entire body quakes with sobs. Her knees give out, but before she hits the ground, Finnick's shaking arms encircle her waist. One of his hands comes up to rest against her face and guide her gaze up to his.

For a second, she thinks he's going to kiss her, and her breath hitches. His thumb rubs her cheek, his eyes dart down to her lips and back up to her eyes. He presses his forehead to hers. Her heart is hammering inside her chest, so much that she's sure he can hear it. She sucks her bottom lip into her teeth. This might be a horrible idea. But some part of her believes (has always believed) that this would happen eventually. Or maybe she only hoped. She lets out a shaky breath and wraps her arms around his neck. He tightens his around her waist.

She closes her eyes. This is happening. This is happening….

She's aware of every breath he lets out. Every little twitch in his arms, and the movement of his fingers drawing circles on her back. Only a few inches separate their lips.

Then he moves. She leans in, heart in her throat, but his face is moving away from hers. He buries himself in the dark mass of tangled hair bunched around her neck, almost clinging for support. She breathes a sigh of relief and winds her arms around his shoulders. She relaxes into him, but her stomach knots with disappointment.

This isn't right. Spending time with Finnick is supposed to mean laughter and swimming and teasing each other. There's no precedence for having a deep conversation in the middle of the night, almost kissing, and then holding each other while faced with her imminent death. Then again, theirs isn't a typical situation to begin with.

While it can't hurt to have a strong bond between tribute and mentor, it probably isn't good for a tribute to have feelings for her mentor.

Annie freezes, and her eyes go wide. Did she really just think that? She's highly aware of his lips, pressed against her neck. A shudder starts between her shoulders and rips through her whole body. She pushes Finnick away from her.

"I should get some sleep," she says. Without her to hold on to, he folds his hands together. She fights the urge to grab them. "I have training tomorrow."

He presses his lips together. Just a moment ago, they were touching her neck. They could've been touching her own lips, if she had just stretched a little more…. She shakes her head. Finnick stretches a hand to her, but spends too long of a moment trying to decide where to place it. He settles it on her shoulder. Warmth seeps into her from each of his fingertips.

He leans forward and gently kisses her forehead. His hand curls around her jaw. She's completely frozen until he pulls away. Her body is torn in half by her desire to kiss him or run down the hall and hide in her room. She doesn't do either of those things, though. She walks, calmly, through the door, down the hall, and into her room. She doesn't look back. If she does, she'll fall apart.

She climbs into bed and tries to convince herself it's not true. She doesn't have feelings for Finnick. She can't. He's her mentor. It would never work anyway. He's Finnick Odair, Capitol darling. He could get anyone he wanted. And she'll probably be dead within the week.

Her dreams are unpleasant that night, to say the least. She and Finnick are swimming in the ocean back home. He leans in to kiss her, but just before his lips touch hers, she grows a mermaid tail and swims away. When he begins to chase her, Holiday shoots him through the heart with an arrow, and he calls out for her to save him.

But Annie just keeps swimming away.


End file.
